Merry
by 2amWritersClub
Summary: Written for The Vampire Act; Hotch and Reid find themselves in a grotto on Christmas Eve. If only Santa was there and not Carter Lowell, a deranged UnSub with a penchant for dressing shop windows.
1. Chapter 1

Written for The Vampire Act for the Christmas Gift Fic Exchange at Chit Chat on Authors Corner.

Christmas song is **Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas**. Prompts are **Snow, Christmas Lights** and **Gingerbread Men**. Pairing is **Hotch/Reid**.

Only caution is for some bad language.

I do not own the characters of Criminal Minds, they belong to CBS, and it would be laughable to assume any profit is being made from this work of fiction.

* * *

**Merry**

**Chapter One **

The curled cord of the earpiece tickled Reid's neck and he had to fight the urge to shrug his shoulders in a makeshift itch as he concentrated on keeping two steps behind Hotch and holding both his gun and Maglite level in front of him. His breathing, although loud to his own ears, was measured and he couldn't help but marvel at his control over it despite his fear and the heightened quantity of adrenalin flooding his system.

The tickle increased when Hotch's quiet voice buzzed through the mic.

'Rossi, Prentiss. What's your location?' Hotch said.

A moment of static followed, broken by a low murmur from Rossi.

'Ground floor. Menswear. Changing rooms are clear. No sign of Lowell.' He replied.

Hotch stepped carefully and silently around a display of brightly painted Nutcracker guardsmen and almost disappeared into the network of shadowy shelves filled with cars and trains, dolls and decorations that populated the top floor toy section of Greys Department Store. Reid followed, his path lit by the rhythmic blinking of a bright red neon sign that read 'GROTTO'.

As a very small child, maybe three or four years old, Reid had wanted to visit a department store Christmas grotto but this proved difficult when your mother had declared department stores a governmental way of brainwashing the populous into conformity, and refused to enter them. He had tried to reason with her but she was a stubborn woman when she was both sick and well and so he was denied the chance to ask Santa how he defied both the laws of physics and mathematics to be in multiple geographical locations at the same time.

A small part of Reid wished he was that four year old boy again, wrapped in the tenuous safety of his mother's arms rather than following his boss on the heels of a spiralling serial killer. The bigger part of him reminded him that this was his job and he loved it. He loved solving he puzzle. He loved finding the UnSub. They all did.

* * *

Today's UnSub, Carter Lowell, was an ordinary man, living an ordinary life, doing an ordinary job. He worked maintenance for a firm that serviced retail stores in DC. He re-wired lights, fixed floor to ceiling mirrors, replaced worn carpet tile and when he was done, murdered late night Christmas shoppers.

He liked to leave them posed in store front windows for early morning commuters to see. He liked to watch them drop their take out cups of coffee as they realised what they'd just walked past.

Of course the team found him, or rather Garcia and her babies did. He wasn't hard to track however he _was_ proving hard to pin down. Reid had been sure that Greys was the next place he would hit and Christmas Eve was the next date. Hotch had trusted his geographical profile and had brow beaten the manager into clearing the store on the busiest day of the year. The manager hadn't wanted to, but when Hotch had shown him a photograph of the last store window Lowell had dressed he'd agreed, after he'd finished vomiting into his waste paper basket.

SWAT had gone in first, rigging the lights so they ran on back-up power, shrouding the store in shadow to give them the advantage with their infra-red sights. They came up empty.

Hotch had looked to Reid then and asked 'You're sure?'

Reid had nodded and the team had gone in.

* * *

Hotch's voice tickled in Reid's ear again. 'Morgan. Your location?'

'Women's underwear.' Morgan replied.

'_Not_ a surprise.' Prentiss whispered back.

'Focus.' Hotch breathed.

'All clear.' Morgan said.

'This is a bust. We're heading back downstairs.' Rossi said.

'Me too.' Morgan agreed.

'Ok. Let's pull out and re-group. We need to re-think.' Hotch said.

Reid was concentrating so hard on the voices in his ear that he almost bumped into Hotch, not realising that the man had stopped moving.

'Wait.' Hotch whispered. 'Wait.'

Reid registered the slight noise from his right, a faint rustle of clothing, but it was too late to stop the heavy wooden Nutcracker figure from swinging into the side of his boss's head, dropping him like a house of cards. Reid turned to face the assailant only to feel a massive hand shove him squarely in the middle of his chest.

Reid landed hard on his ass and instinctively scooted back across the floor, his gun and Maglite wavering in front of him, his palms itching with sweat. His back met the wall, the sudden jarring almost making him drop his gun. He swallowed, forcing his chest to stop heaving, his heart to slow so he could focus on the situation.

He could see Hotch out cold on the floor in front of him. He couldn't see the UnSub.

Reid blinked the sweat from his eyes and swallowed. Pressing his back against the wall he pushed his feet beneath him and slid upwards to stand, his eyes strained to make out anything in the darkness. He swung the beam of his Maglite in a wide arc ahead of him; the light bounced off the toys, dozens of wide plastic eyes stared back at him, but no UnSub.

He glanced down at Hotch. He was still, his right arm reaching out in front of him, his fingertips millimetres away from his Maglite and a dark spatter of blood that fanned out from his temple. Reid quickly scanned the floor for Hotch's gun.

'Morgan.' Reid whispered.

'Kid? You and Hotch still up there?' Morgan's voice blared in Reid's ear.

'Morgan. The UnSub, He's up here. Officer down. I repeat ...' Reid was part way through a sentence when he heard the air whistle by him and felt an explosion of pain as something heavy connected with his wrist sending his gun flying in one direction and his Maglite in the other.

A hand fisted into Reid's hair and he was yanked face to face with Carter Lowell.

'You think you can stop me from painting this city red? Lowell said, his face flushed, spittle flying from his mouth. 'You think you can fucking stop ME!'

Reid gasped as he was shoved back into the wall and Lowell jammed his knee up, into his groin, pinning him in place as he yanked the mic from Reid's ear, hauling the cord up from under the back of his sweater and out through his collar. Lowell flung the earpiece and cord behind him.

'All alone now FBI.' Lowell said.

Reid felt something hard nose under the bottom of his Kevlar vest and press into his flesh just above his hip.

'I found your partner's gun.' Lowell said as he smiled and pulled the trigger.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Merry**

**Chapter Two**

'Reid! Hotch! Come in.' Morgan said.

He had reached the entrance to the store and was about to follow Rossi, Prentiss and the SWAT team out onto the sidewalk when he heard Reid whispering in his earpiece.

'Reid!' Morgan repeated. He got no reply. Morgan pushed his way over to the SWAT team leader.

'Jackson! We need to go back in. That son of a bitch _is_ in there and he just took one of our men down.' Morgan waved the SWAT team back into the building as he, Rossi and Prentiss drew their weapons and stepped back inside.

* * *

When Reid opened his eyes again he was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. He had the most disconcerting feeling of having wet himself. His pants were sticking to him. They felt warm. He pressed his hand to the fabric covering his groin. It came back wet and dark. Reid blinked rapidly and drew in a deep breath as he inched his hand upwards, flexing his fingers slightly until the pressure yielded an almost overwhelming throb of pain from a spot low on his abdomen, just above his hip. The throb brought back his memory.

Lowell had shot him. He'd pushed the barrel of Hotch's gun under the bottom of his Kevlar vest and shot him and he'd looked into his eyes and smiled as he did it.

Reid slumped to the side slightly. A flush of warmth rushed over his skin and he wished he'd taken his sweater vest off before he'd strapped on the Kevlar. He straightened his back against the wall and felt the drag of clammy fabric against his skin. His dress shirt was sticking to his back. He was sweating. He wanted to close his eyes but he knew he had to focus.

Lowell had disappeared again but Reid could hear crashing and cursing coming from the entrance area of the toy department. He could hear the dragging of heavy furniture, toys falling to the floor. Lowell was making a barricade.

'Hotch.' Reid called quietly.

Hotch still hadn't moved. Reid would have been scared that Lowell had killed him with the heavy wooden Nutcracker guardsman if he hadn't been able to detect the slight rise and fall of Hotch's back in the blinking red light.

'Hotch.' Reid said again. Nothing.

Reid took a deep breath and started to move away from the wall. He had to get Hotch out of here while Lowell was preoccupied and whilst he knew he wouldn't be able to move his heavier colleague far, even if he _was_ at full fitness, he had to move him somewhere, anywhere but where Lowell had left them.

Reid pushed himself forward and breathed through the wave of nausea that hit him. He looked back at the wall, above where he'd been leaning, and swallowed when he saw the deep hole in the plaster which was surrounded by a halo of blood spatter. His blood spatter. He could see the truncated end of the bullet gleaming wetly at the centre. The bullet had gone right through his body. Reid didn't know if that made him feel better or worse.

A louder crash spurred Reid into action. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and started to crawl towards Hotch, surprised that he wasn't in more pain. When he had taken a bullet in the knee he couldn't do much more than lay on his back in the grass, let alone crawl.

'Hotch.' He whispered again as he reached the unconscious man. 'Hotch.'

Hotch moaned. Reid tugged at his arm, trying to pull him up and forward.

'Five more minutes.' Hotch slurred.

'Hotch, we need to move, _please_.' Reid begged.

'No school today mom.' Hotch whined.

Reid closed his eyes as another wave of nausea and heated throbbing washed over him. When it had passed he gave Hotch a hard jab on the shoulder.

'Mom!' Hotch moaned.

There was a cessation in the noise coming from the entrance way. Panic flared in Reid's gut. He _had_ to get Hotch to move.

'Aaron Hotchner, get up now. You'll be late for school!' Reid demanded.

'Mom?' Hotch said, confusion lacing his voice. He still didn't move.

Reid took a deep breath and set his jaw.

'Get up Aaron, or I'll call your father.' Reid said.

Hotch stayed quiet for a moment but then his eyes fluttered open and he blinked. Slowly, very slowly he pulled himself to his hands and knees, groaning as he did so.

Reid wondered how it was possible to hate yourself and feel glad at the same time.

* * *

It took more time than Reid would have liked but eventually he managed to half guide, half drag a heavily concussed Aaron Hotchner through a brightly sparkling, silver lametta curtain into Santa's grotto. Once through the curtain Reid allowed his knees to cave beneath him and for a moment he lay on his side and took in his surroundings.

The floor was covered in a light sprinkling of manufactured snow. The walls were decorated with murals of frosted trees, branches twinkling with hundreds of tiny led lights that smoothly undulated in to and out of life. The suggestion of a pathway was created by small huddles of woodland creatures, fawns, rabbits, chipmunks, dotted here and there, all of which lead the eye to the huge sleigh and reindeers stationed at the back of the room.

The sleigh was big enough to carry a stack of presents and an adult, presumably playing Santa, and a child. What Reid _really _liked about it was that it was big enough to hide behind.

Reid pushed himself back to his knees. Hotch lay next to him, his eyes squeezed shut, his breathing heavy. He blinked.

'Mom?' He said, his words still slurred.

Reid reached out and took hold of Hotch's arm and tugged him forward.

'Come on. We just need to keep out of the way for a while, until its safe.' Reid said. 'We're nearly there.'

As they reached the back of the sleigh Hotch stopped crawling and raised his head to look at Reid. His hair stuck damply to his bloody forehead and his eyes swam, lazily.

'Did I make him mad again Mom?' Hotch asked seconds before his eyes rolled in his head and he lost consciousness once more.

* * *

Morgan, Jackson and Rossi stood at the head of the escalator that fed the top floor of Greys Department Store. SWAT had completed a second sweep of all floors, fanning out and progressing upward in the search for the UnSub. Morgan, Rossi and Prentiss found themselves pacing behind a three deep barrier of flak covered men, the front row kneeling, semi automatic weapons at the ready.

Jackson, the SWAT Team leader, approached them.

'So how's this gonna play out?' He asked.

The three profilers exchanged a look. Emily cleared her throat.

'The Unsub is experiencing what is called a psychotic break. He has, at best, a _very_ limited grasp on reality, if that. His mind is lost in his own fantasy and he perceives everyone outside of that fantasy to be a direct threat. Whilst he's in the grip of this type of break he is incapable of empathy or compassion. He won't register any loss of life as an issue but as a necessity. You'll struggle to take him peacefully. Our presence here is preventing him from fulfilling his fantasy. It is dividing his attention. This will only serve to make him more unstable as he battles with his compulsion to seek out new victims to murder and pose and at the same time to elude capture.'

Jackson blew out a long breath. 'So, we see a shot, we take it?'

Emily glanced at Morgan and Rossi.

'Without hesitation.' She replied.

'And your men? Assuming they're still alive, will they fit into his fantasy? Will he use them for his next victims?' Jackson asked.

'They don't fit his type and therefore wouldn't give him the gratification he requires but they _are_ a representation of us and we _are_ stopping him servicing his compulsion.' Rossi replied.

'So he _could _try to use them as leverage to get out of here?' Jackson pressed.

'Or he'll just kill them.' Morgan sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Merry**

**Chapter Three**

The sleigh wasn't just big enough to hide _behind_, it was big enough to hide _under_. When Reid finally got Hotch behind it he saw that the back was covered in a sheet of green baize which concealed a large, boxy, rectangle of space big enough for Reid to push Hotch into and crawl in next to him.

As he was pulling himself to a sitting position next to his boss Reid felt something give inside of his abdomen and a new flush of warmth spread down his hip and thigh. His tongue grew heavy and thick in his mouth and his skin prickled. Taking a deep breath Reid pressed lightly against his wound. He heard a thick, fluid squelch.

Reid glanced down at Hotch, whose eyes were still closed. He needed to stay awake. He needed to protect Hotch, just as Hotch would protect him or anyone else on the team. He needed to slow the bleeding.

Leaning onto his side he dragged himself back out from behind the green curtain and squinted in the gloom to find something he could use as a makeshift bandage. Half hidden behind one of the shimmering curtains that hung on the back wall of the grotto was a squashy cardboard box. Reid leaned out and grabbed hold of the corner, dragging the box toward him. Tipping it onto its side he rummaged through the contents that had spilled out. He almost laughed when he grabbed the huge red hat trimmed with a thick band of heavy white fur.

'Sorry Santa.' He said to himself, as he wadded up the hat and pressed it against his wound.

The pain that shot through his body almost made him pass out but he didn't ease the pressure, instead he worked on tucking the bundle of thick fabric under the edge of his Kevlar vest and the waistband of his pants. He groaned in frustration as the hat stubbornly refused to stay put.

His hand found the contents of the box again and he felt through the mess until his fingers closed on a string of Christmas lights. It was a short string of about twenty clear plastic gingerbread men that had been coiled up in the box, which Reid now coiled around his hips to hold the Santa hat bandage in place. Once he had the string wrapped around his body a couple of times he crossed and looped the ends to form a knot. He tried to tighten the knot but his left hand was too slippery with blood. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the plug end of the string in his right hand and clamped the other end, terminating in a smiling gingerbread man, between his teeth. He pulled hard and fainted.

* * *

Prentiss and Morgan took turns in pacing. They knew where the UnSub was, they had the advantage of fire power and they knew Hotch was hurt. Basic instinct screamed at them both to rush in and get their team members out but luckily they had something stronger than basic instinct. They had Rossi, and Rossi was a patient man when he had to be. He was currently at the front line of the SWAT team about to speak to the UnSub. They knew the tactic he'd take. He would talk to the man, drop hints that he understood and empathised with his compulsion. He'd try to get the UnSub to believe he'd met a kindred spirit.

It was necessary but it sickened both Prentiss and Morgan.

'Sometimes I think it might be better if we just took them down straight away.' Emily muttered.

Morgan raised his eyebrows at her.

'What? Don't tell me you aren't thinking the same thing? Hotch and Reid could both be badly injured, or worse, and we're sitting here waiting for Rossi to try to talk this guy down? It's all wrong Morgan, all wrong.' Emily sighed.

'And if we storm in there and he has Hotch or Reid as a shield? What then?' Morgan asked.

Emily rolled her eyes. 'I never said it was a plan, just what I'd _like_ to do.' She said.

Morgan shot her a sympathetic look. 'I hear you. Believe me, I hear you.' He said.

* * *

Reid woke up to the sound of faint groaning. He was laid on his side and something was digging into his left hip painfully. Pushing himself up he found the ends of the string of lights draped over his lap. His final pull had succeeded in holding the Santa hat bandage in place as the plastic Gingerbread men had snagged and twisted together to form an effective belt. Reid closed his eyes briefly as his stomach lurched and dropped and his breath came in short pants. Blindly he groped for the ends of the string and knotted them together again, loosely looping the cord around the plug five or six times. He didn't want everything to work free. He didn't want to have to replace his bandage and repeat the procedure. Ever.

When he had gained control of his breathing he shifted until he had pushed his way back under the green curtain. Hotch's eyes were finally open and he was rubbing his temple. He groaned again.

Reid waved his hand in front of his mouth.

'You need to be quiet. He's still out there.' Reid whispered.

'Reid? What are you doing here?' Hotch said, frowning.

Reid's face broke into a brief, relief filled smile. Hotch recognised him. He felt the tension in his muscles relax slightly. 'We're at Greys. Do you remember? The UnSub hit you, you have a concussion, I'd say a Grade 3 if we go by the Cantu guidelines although the Colorado Medical Society would say ...'

Hotch put his hand on Reid's arm and squeezed. 'My head is killing me.' He whispered as he blinked a couple of times.

'I know it is but we just need to stay here until the rest of the team find the UnSub and SWAT clear the area. I thought staying here would give us optimal odds of survival. Should we try to move? I'm just not sure if I ...'

Reid was stopped mid sentence by the very unnerving sight of Aaron Hotchner smiling widely at him.

'You don't have to go. It's Christmas Eve, my mom will let you stay for dinner.' Hotch whispered.

Reid slumped despondently against the hardwood interior of the sleigh and assessed the situation. He had lost his gun and the UnSub had Hotch's gun. His mic had been ripped off him and a brief feel at Hotch's collar told him that his had been removed too. He was bleeding and scared and he couldn't reach the rest of the team and Hotch, his stalwart, unshakable boss, the teams protector, thought he was a little kid at home with his mom.

Reid took a breath and swallowed down the urge to cry.

* * *

Carter Lowell was sweating profusely by the time he had finished his barricade of shelving, dollies, toy trains and spacemen. It wasn't the most effective barricade he'd ever made. The _most_ effective was the one he'd built out of bricks and mortar when he was hiding his grandfather's body in the basement of his house when he was eighteen. He'd made a good job of it and even now he felt a thrill of pride when he thought about the workmanship he'd put into it. Even now he marvelled at how the cold of the earth and a double row of brickwork could mask the smell of rotting flesh.


	4. Chapter 4

For Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Merry**

**Chapter Four**

Reid felt Hotch's hand tighten on his arm.

'I'm just taking a nap ok? We'll play when I wake up.' Hotch whispered.

Reid came back to his senses and gripped Hotch's shoulder.

'No! I need you to stay awake. It would ... it's... your head hurts right? If you go to sleep it might hurt worse when you wake up.' Reid said.

'I'm too tired and the game is boring.' Hotch whined.

Reid shook Hotch's shoulder again and tried frantically to think of something to keep Hotch awake.

'What do you do on Christmas Eve? Sometimes my mom and I make paper snowflakes and stick them to the windows so it looks like it's snowing.' Reid blurted.

Hotch turned his head slightly to look at him. 'That's stupid. It always snows in winter. You can look out of the window and see it.' Hotch said, his eyes closing.

Reid scrunched his eyes up as a wave of pain shot through his side. He had to try again. He had to gain Hotch's interest and keep him awake. What would, without fail, gain a _child's_ interest at Christmas he asked himself.

'What did you ask Santa for?' Reid asked.

Hotch's eyes snapped open and he looked from side to side furtively before looking back at Reid.

'Santa Claus isn't real. My dad told me.' Hotch said, falling silent for a moment. 'I wrote a list though. In case.' He looked at Reid warily. Reid nodded for him to continue. Hotch lowered his voice so much that Reid had to bend to hear him.

'I asked for an Evel Knievel action figure. The one that comes with the bike. The one he jumped Snake River Canyon on. Did you see it?' Hotch said in an awed tone.

Reid shook his head. 'I must have missed it.' He said.

'It was amazing. I want to ride a bike like he does but my dad says you need a proper vocation, you can't just play at things.' Hotch whispered.

'Sometimes it's good to play at things, isn't it?' Reid said.

Hotch looked as though he was thinking for a moment, weighing arguments in his mind, before he looked back at Reid.

'It makes too much noise.' He said.

Reid took a deep breath as a combined wave of nausea and sadness swept through him. He guessed that Evel Knievel toys were to the Hotchner household what piles of dinosaur toys had been to the Reid household.

Not knowing what else to say he clenched his eyes shut and breathed softly through the pain that was steadily growing across his abdomen. His head was starting to ache and his eyelids were heavy. _Maybe_ they _could_ just rest for a moment.

'Sorry about the snowflakes, you know, saying they were stupid.' Hotch said, but Reid was already asleep.

* * *

Carter Lowell twisted his hands together as he paced, stopping only to tug at the workman's overalls that felt like they were strangling him. His stomach fizzed and his skin felt like it was burning so much that he wanted to rip it off. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to complete his pictures, he only had one more to go, one more window to dress, one final victim to show to the world. He'd seen the perfect girl and he would have got her if only those cops hadn't showed up and stopped him. They'd ruined his flow and if they didn't leave soon he'd have to start all over again.

He whimpered, continuing to twist his hands. He had to get out. He couldn't bear listening to that guy talk any more. His voice made him want to claw his own ears from his head. His voice made him want to _kill_ someone.

He knew _how_ to get out. The cops hadn't thought about the heating ducts that ran above the suspended ceilings. He'd watched them from above when they first swept the store. He thought they were stupid.

Nodding to himself and smoothing down the front of his overalls Carter decided it was time to go. The only thing stopping him was his overwhelming need to find his next victim, to fulfil his purpose. He was stymied by the conflict of desire over necessity. He _wanted_ to complete his kill but he _needed_ to get away.

Abruptly he stopped pacing. He could do both.

'I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, I am an idiot.' He sang to himself. 'You already sent me two to pick from didn't you Grandpa? Huh. I just gotta decide which one is best. That's right, that's right, that's right. Isn't it Grandpa, isn't it! I'll go look at them again. They won't be perfect but I don't have time. I just have to decide which is best and take it with me.'

Carter Lowell smoothed his hands through his wild hair and reached for his tool bag before he stepped toward the back of the toy department and away from the barricade and the tormenting voice of Agent David Rossi.

* * *

Reid jerked awake, his stomach squirming with panic as he realised that he had fallen asleep. He was supposed to keep Hotch awake and here he was dozing with Hotch dozing beside him.

He shook Hotch's shoulder briskly. Hotch's eyes flickered open.

'You got that, right?' Hotch asked.

'What?' Reid asked, confused.

'I said I was sorry about saying your snowflake thing was stupid. My mom and I always make paper chains to hang in my room.' Hotch said as he looked Reid up and down, as if only just taking in his appearance.

'You have Gingerbread men on your belt.' He said.

Reid looked down as his makeshift bandage and nodded. He could see the white fluffy trim on the hat was now soaked red. His mouth dried and he took a steadying breath.

'My mom and I make gingerbread men every year at Christmas. Do you do stuff like that too?' Hotch asked.

Reid shook his head slightly.

'Sometimes, but my mom gets pretty sick, so some years she can't do much and some years she can. One time, when she was well, we made gingerbread and used a reindeer cutter. We iced the names of all the reindeer on them. She had this old vinyl record that she put on and I remember it being scratched so we had to listen to the same song over and over because all the rest would jump.' Reid said, smiling briefly at the memory.

'What song?' Hotch asked.

'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I was somewhat obsessed with it. I remember getting hung up on the word 'Merry' and searching for every definition of it I could find.' Reid said, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes quickly.

'Why?' Hotch asked.

'Because I wanted to know if that's what I was having, a _Merry_ Christmas but it's meaning isn't tangible, for instance if you take the popular definitions as being blithesome, convivial, jocund even, they cannot be quantified so I concluded that I wasn't _merry_ because I had no way of measuring the emotion and now, as an adult I again have to conclude that I don't believe I ever was or ever have been _merry _at Christmas.' Reid said.

Hotch looked confused. His eyes were starting to fall shut again and Reid cursed himself for allowing himself to ramble. Hotch's tolerance for his getting off point was limited when he was in full charge of his mental state. As a heavily concussed man, currently lost in memories from his childhood, his tolerance would be zero. Reid tried to get back to the point of the snowflakes.

'I'm from Las Vegas. It does snow but only occasionally and it's pretty much gone when the sun rises. That's why we make our own snowflakes.' Reid said, trying to get his mind away from his mom.

'Oh.' Said Hotch.

* * *

On finding nothing but a bare floor and smears of blood Carter Lowell felt something shift in his brain, a finite snapping of the last thin thread that held a rein on his wildly swinging emotions. He threw his tool box across the room and, enraged, swept armfuls of toys off the shelving as he rampaged around looking for the two men he knew he had incapacitated.

They belonged to him, they had been sent especially so he could pick one and complete his work, and someone had taken them away.

He stamped his way back to the barricade and the incessant voice that insisted on calling to him, his hands fisted into his hair.

'Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!' He yelled.

* * *

Reid placed his hand on Hotch's arm and motioned for him to be quiet. The relative calm that had existed earlier was broken by crashing and muttering that was closer now than before.

Hotch took a deep and noisy breath and pushed his hand through his hair as he gazed up at Reid.

'My dad's home.' He said, his eyes wide.


	5. Chapter 5

For Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Merry**

**Chapter Five**

Carter Lowell raged behind his hastily constructed barricade, his face puce with anger, spittle flying from his mouth as he cursed and jabbed a finger in the air.

'Bring them back, do you hear me. Bring them fucking back! They're mine and you have no right.'

The last words were a whisper as his throat dried with over use. Clumsily he dried the spit from his mouth with the back of his hand which he then wiped on his pant leg.

'If you don't bring them back I'll have to get new ones!' Carter wept.

The voice came back at him.

'What did you lose Carter?' David Rossi called.

'Didn't lose nothing you dumb fucking asshole, you fucking _took them_. They were there and now they're not which means you _took them!_'

* * *

Prentiss touched Morgan's shoulder lightly.

'He's talking about Hotch and Reid. They must have gotten away from him somehow.' She said.

Morgan sighed and smoothed his hand over his head. 'He could be talking about the windows he dressed. He would view the removal of the bodies from the scenes as theft.' He argued.

'Or, Hotch and Reid got away from him.' Emily repeated stubbornly as Rossi's voice floated over them once more.

* * *

Hotch rolled to his side and started to push up into a sitting position, groaning and turning a delicate shade of green as he did so. Reid put a hand firmly on his shoulder.

'What are you doing? You need to lie still, your head ...' Reid whispered.

Hotch blinked at him, his face serious.

'Didn't you hear me? My dad's home. Get behind me and stay quiet. I can protect you, but you have to stay quiet.' He said.

Reid shook his head.

'Hotch, that man, he isn't your father. Please, _please_ try to think.' Reid begged.

'You don't know what he's like... he'll be wearing his suit, the one that has the belt with the buckle ... I shouldn't hide from him. I should meet him face to face like a man.' Hotch said as he tried to push Reid aside again.

Reid swiped roughly at his eyes and then pushed Hotch back to lie down.

'You're right. You _should_ act like a man, but right now you have a bad headache and if you rest some more you'll be able to stand up to your father more and he'll respect that in you, right?' Reid said frantically.

Hotch's brow crinkled and he looked confused for a second before he relaxed and allowed Reid to press him flat to the floor.

'You can sleep for a little while if you want to. You want to sleep don't you?' Reid reasoned.

Hotch looked at Reid, his expression wary. His eyes narrowed.

'You said before that I shouldn't sleep. If you're scared and you don't want me to go you can say so. _I'm_ not scared though. I'm never scared of him.' Hotch's chin jutted defiantly. 'I can stay with _you_ though, you know, if _you_ are.'

Reid took a deep breath and swallowed down a sob. He was terrified of Hotch going to sleep and not being able to wake him but he was more terrified of an injured Aaron Hotchner stumbling around looking for a psychotic UnSub whom he thought was his father.

'I _am_ scared Aaron, I am. Could you stay?' Reid said.

Hotch nodded and slipped his hand into Reid's.

'I'll stay.' He said.

* * *

Carter Lowell balanced precariously on the upturned end of one of the shelves he had pushed over in his earlier rampage. Carefully he extended his arms and pushed firmly upward on the service access panel that would lead him to the heating ducts hidden by the department stores suspended ceiling. He would be quiet and quick. He had to be. He had to start all over again.

* * *

'We can call _your_ dad if you like? Could he come and pick you up, you know, if your mom's still sick?' Hotch said. 'He could maybe... you know ...talk to my dad, or something.' Hotch said hurridly.

Reid huffed out a small laugh, even though for the first time in a long time he actually wanted to sit and cry.

'Somehow I don't think my dad would be the correct choice of adversary for your dad. A pair of cowards. I'm not sure who would win.' Reid muttered to himself.

'What?' Hotch asked.

'Nothing, I ... um, my dad, he left, so it's just me and my mom.'

'Does he visit?' Hotch asked.

'Not at all.' Reid replied quietly.

Hotch was silent for a moment. 'It wouldn't be too bad, to just be with your mom, I mean, I know my mom's not sick but ... hey, what if your mom's too sick to make the snowflakes and your dad's gone? Who will help you make them?' Hotch asked worriedly, squeezing Reid's hand.

'We don't need help, my mom and me. We just remember to make twice as many the next year if she's well.' Reid whispered.

'You like it just being you and your mom?' Hotch asked.

Reid thought for a moment and nodded slowly. 'Yeah, mostly I did... ah ... I do.'

'I like it when it's just me and my mom too.' Hotch confided.

Reid loosened his hand from Hotch's grip. He felt hot and breathless in the enclosed space and his tongue and lips felt numb. The blood loss was affecting him more now and as he gasped the close air into his lungs he wanted desperately to get out of the enclosed space and feel cool air on his face. He knew what was happening to him and he didn't want it to happen here. He didn't want it to happen at all.

He was dying, and if he gave in, if he let go too soon one of his few friends might die too.

* * *

Morgan held his hand up and cocked his head to the right. His hand suspended in mid air rendered both the SWAT Team and Prentiss and Rossi silent and alert.

'Do you hear that?' He asked.

The faint scraping and clanking noise above them was too loud and laboured for a rodent or any bird inadvertently trapped in the roofing.

'He's in the heating ducts.' Prentiss said, raising her eyebrows.

'Pull up the schematics PG sent over to us and give them to Jackson.' Rossi said to Morgan.

'Morgan and I can clear the Toy Department.' Prentiss said as she checked her weapons and vest.

'Wait. We have to be sure. I don't want you walking in there for Lowell to grab you too.' Rossi ordered. 'We need to check the blue prints and get men stationed at each access point. Then we flush this piece of excrement out.'

'We need to get our team members back.' Prentiss argued. 'I'm trained, Morgan's trained. We can clear a room.'

'Hotch and Reid are trained too and he got the drop on them. We wait.' Rossi ordered.

Emily shook her head and bit her lower lip.

'I want them safe Emily, but we have to ensure _everyone'_s safety first.' Rossi said gently.

'Rossi, it's been three hours. The last thing Morgan heard was Reid saying Hotch was down and we haven't heard anything from either of them since. Three hours is a long time to wait for help. Three hours is a long time for a little boy to wait for his daddy on Christmas Eve Dave and I don't think any of us could stand it if we have to have to tell Jack ... ' Emily looked away, the muscles in her jaw flexing.

* * *

Hotch groaned and his eyes fluttered. 'I'm sorry.' He said quietly.

Reid jumped at the noise and blinked, his eyes gritty and sore. 'It's ok Hotch, you're ok.' He gasped, too drained to do more.

'I mean it mom, I'll do better next time, I'll help more and he won't get mad.' Hotch mumbled.

Reid leaned shakily over his boss. 'Hotch? It's me, Reid.'

Hotch's eyes widened. They were unfocused and swam for a while before settling on Reid. What was left of Reid's strength almost failed him as Hotch started to cry, his hand grasped tightly on his arm.

'I'm so sorry I let you down, that I didn't protect you when I should have. I'm so sorry mom, _so sorry_.' Hotch cried.

'Hotch.' Reid started.

'Please mom, is it ok? Say it's ok.' Hotch's eyes rolled for a moment before his gaze swam back to Reid. 'Please, I need for you to say it's ok.' He mumbled, the words faded as his eyes closed.

Reid shook Hotch's arm weakly but got no response. He swallowed and ran his hand down the side of Hotch's face, drying the tears with his thumb.

'It's ok Aaron. There's nothing to forgive and it's all ok.' He whispered as he leaned forward a little. He hesitated for a moment and then pressed a soft, motherly kiss to his friend's forehead.

Leaning back against the thin wooden side of the sleigh Reid allowed his eyes to close. He didn't have much choice. His knew that his pulse was racing and that he no longer had the strength to fight the dizziness. He knew he was cold yet sweating and his recent gasps for air had left him exhausted. He knew his blood pressure was tanking and he knew his heart was in overdrive trying to circulate his reduced volume of blood. He knew Aaron had fallen asleep and he knew that he wouldn't be the one to wake him.


	6. Chapter 6

For Disclaimer - See Chapter One

**Merry**

**Chapter Six**

Morgan stepped carefully and quietly along the carpeted floor, his weapon drawn, every muscle tense. His eyes tracked the ceiling above him as he walked, ears straining to catch any sound that might signal the trail of the fleeing UnSub.

Rossi was a few steps ahead of him.

'Mr Lowell, we know where you are and we have Agents stationed at every access point. You should seriously consider reaching one of those points and surrendering your weapons and yourself.' Rossi called loudly.

Prentiss held her breath as she followed Morgan. She wished that Lowell would resume his noisy clanking so they had a firm idea of where he was. She and Morgan could start searching for Hotch and Reid if they only knew for sure that he had left the Toy Department. Every minute lost made her nerves stretch that tiny bit more.

'Think about it Carter. It will work in your favour if we can tell the Judge that you surrendered yourself.'

'He's not going to respond to that sort of reasoning Dave. You know the profile. He doesn't have the ability to reason any more. He's not suddenly going to realise his misdemeanours and land himself at your feet.' Emily whispered.

Rossi turned and raised his eyebrows at her.

Morgan stopped and held his hand up for silence as the ceiling above them gave a small creak and then groaned as a spiral of dust floated down, coating Emily's hair.

Emily's words had barely left her mouth when the ceiling exploded in a sudden arc of debris and all two hundred and ten pounds of Carter Lowell landed heavily at David Rossi's feet.

* * *

With the lights back up and the dazed UnSub handed off to the LEO's Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi and two of Jackson's SWAT team shoved their way through Lowell's barricade and into the toy department.

'Clear.' Emily called, waving for SWAT to drop back.

'Over here.' Morgan yelled.

The first thing Rossi and Emily saw as they stepped around a pile of toys to find Morgan was a smear of blood on the floor next to a cracked and bloodied wooden Nutcracker guardsman.

'There's a trail back here.' Morgan said as he followed the blood spatter toward a shimmering silver lametta curtain.

* * *

Emily didn't notice the beautiful glittering trees or the cute woodland animals lining the path. She didn't notice the ornate beauty of the wooden sleigh at the back of the room. All she could register was Morgan and Rossi following the trail of blood that had congealed the dusting of fake snow on the floor into sticky pink globs under her boots; Morgan ducking behind the structure, bobbing out of sight for a moment before he yelled for Rossi, the two of them dragging the structure to one side to reveal Reid and Hotch laid out in the twinkling light. All she could hear was Rossi yelling for the EMT's as Morgan pressed his fingers to Reid's neck and tugged at his Kevlar vest which seemed to be snared by a string of garish Christmas lights around the bottom. Later, when she tried to recall the events, all she could remember was the image of Rossi leaning over Hotch, calling to him as Morgan pressed down on Reid's chest, alternately counting compressions and breathing into his mouth.

'Merry Christmas.' She whispered to herself dazedly as she was shoved aside by the arrival of the medics.

* * *

Reid could hear Christmas music. He was warm and his limbs felt blissfully relaxed as they do on that cusp of awakening, before the muscles revert to their toned state. He breathed deeply and regretted it deeply a second later when a burst of fire flashed through his stomach. He weakly shifted his knees and tried to roll onto his side but his hand and arm and leg were tangled in wires. It must be the string of lights he thought. His stomach burned with anxiety as he remembered. Hotch and the UnSub. He should be keeping Hotch awake until they could get out of the store. How long had he been asleep? He moaned and tried to yank his hand free. Something pinched the back of it.

'Stay still. You're ok.' Someone said.

Reid tried to open his eyes but they were heavy.

'Have to... wake up.' He whispered.

'No. It's alright. You can rest now.' The voice replied moments before a brief kiss was pressed to his forehead. 'Just rest.'

* * *

When Reid next woke he didn't feel as groggy. His mouth was dry and tasted horrible and he could feel the sting of an IV needle in the back of his hand and the warm weight of a Foley catheter against his thigh. He swallowed and screwed his eyes up against the dual stings of the catheter and the IV and the staggering pain in his abdomen. He could hear music again and then, without warning, a voice.

'Not too much glitter buddy.' Hotch said.

Reid opened his eyes and rolled his head on the pillow to see Hotch and Jack stood next to the over the bed table that had been pushed in front of the window.

'Fix that one up daddy.' Jack said as he handed his father a white paper snowflake decorated with an unfeasibly large amount of glue and glitter.

Hotch took the snowflake and pressed it to the window where it glittered along with six or seven others.

'Hotch?' Reid said, his voice croaking.

'Welcome back.' Hotch said. 'Jack, would you go see Miss Garcia and ask her to take you to the cafeteria for some lunch? She's right there.' Hotch said, nodding toward the door and hallway beyond. Jack nodded and ran for the door.

'How are you feeling?' Hotch asked.

'Bad.' Reid swallowed. 'Did you know that the biggest drawback with the extended use of the Foley catheter is repeated UTI's, especially in male recipients. That and the potential for adverse reactions to the rubber used in the manufacture of the catheter itself.'

Hotch flashed a small smile. 'I remember that they're not fun.' Hotch replied dryly.

Reid smiled and then winced, his free hand fluttering uselessly above his stomach.

'How about you, your head ... and it's Christmas day, you should be home with Jack.' Reid looked up at Hotch, nodding towards the bandage on his temple.

Hotch pulled up a chair and sat. 'My head is fine, thanks to you making sure I stayed mostly awake, it's the day before New Years and Jack is here with me as I'm sure you noticed.'

Reid squeezed his eyes shut. 'The day before New Years? I... how long ...'

'When the team found us you had stopped breathing. Morgan and the EMT's brought you back.' Hotch paused for a moment. 'They brought us both to the hospital where I slept off my Post Traumatic Amnesia, Transient Retrograde, no less, in irritatingly supervised chunks and you had major surgery which you topped off with a major infection. You've been sedated and swimming in antibiotics for the last six days. They withdrew the sedatives yesterday and I've been watching you try to wake up since then.' Hotch said.

'Post Traumatic Amnesia?' Reid repeated.

Hotch nodded. 'Seems the doctor who was with me on the scene misdiagnosed me.' Hotch smiled.

'I'm not a medical doctor. You yourself have reminded me of that in the past, and besides, concussion was the most likely diagnosis.' Reid argued.

Hotch smiled again. 'You were part right. I did also have a concussion.' He conceded.

Reid smiled weakly and swallowed. 'This really hurts.' He gasped.

Hotch reached out and covered Reid's hand with his own. 'I know. They only have you on NSAID's since they stopped the sedatives. I told them nothing else. You can ask them for something stronger. No one would think any less of you.'

Reid shook his head and looked around the room. 'You've been making snowflakes. And the music ...' Reid gestured toward the iPod and dock that sat on the window sill.

Hotch smiled. 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, and if you look up you'll see the standard Hotchner family paper chains. Jack and Garcia are on a mission to bring you Christmas even though you're late.' Hotch smiled briefly before falling silent.

Reid closed his eyes and swallowed against the pain. 'You missed Christmas day too?' He asked.

'I did. The doctors wanted to keep me for as long as possible. They weren't too happy with the level of my amnesia. Apparently losing _some_ memories before the incident is ok but the previous thirty two years is a little on the dramatic side.' Hotch smiled briefly before continuing. 'I had no idea that a blow to the head could be so effective in rendering a person so useless for days afterwards. Disrupted sleep patterns and irritability seem to be my main side effects although Dave made some allusion to my always suffering from that. Something to do with the job.' Hotch said wryly.

'Jack forgiven you yet?' Reid asked breathlessly.

'In desperation I had Garcia mock me up an invite to Disney World. I had it planted on his pillow when I brought him home from Jessica's. I'm almost back in his good books. Not quite, but almost.' Hotch said.

The room was silent for a moment apart from the music.

'How much do you remember?' Reid asked.

'Some. It's strange. When my head started to clear it was like my more recent memories just slid back into place and the old ones faded back again. Those feelings though, the recollections from childhood, they were ... vivid, to say the least.' Hotch paused before carrying on. 'That morning, Jack had been going through an old box of Christmas decorations and he found a card my mother had given me when I was eight years old. It ... my mother and our "family" Christmases were on my mind before I left for work.'

The room was silent for a moment before Hotch spoke again.

'My father ... he wasn't a ... good man and ...' Hotch shook his head, struggling with the words.

'Your father wasn't a good man Hotch and mine left and Morgan's died and Emily's ignored her and Rossi's ...' Reid stopped suddenly and crinkled his brow.

'Rossi's probably treated him like a small prince from the day he was conceived which would explain everything.' Hotch finished.

Reid laughed and regretted it as his stomach went into a spasm of pain. When it passed he turned back to Hotch.

'What I was trying to say was that you, me and Emily, our fathers made us what we are today, in spite of them, and Hotch, that can only be a good thing because I'm pretty proud of who we are.'

Hotch smiled again. 'When did you become the inspiring team leader?' He laughed.

'Don't worry. It won't happen again. I'll be back to talking about chocolate and peas in inappropriate situations in no time.' Reid huffed a small laugh and gestured around the room. 'Thank you for this. The snowflakes are wonderful and the music. Thank you.' Reid finished.

'You should get more sleep. This is just the start. Garcia has a whole re-enactment of Christmas Day planned for tomorrow. She's already plotting to smuggle food and drink past the nursing staff and Jack has baked gingerbread in the shape of Reindeer. We had a full set but he licked Prancer when he was part way through the icing so I thought it sanitary to remove him.'

Reid smiled as his eyes closed.

'I'm hoping it will have you feeling a little _merry_ despite your current circumstances_.' _Hotch continued.

Reid's eyes fluttered. 'I _might_ admit to feeling merry once I get out of here.' Reid murmured.

Hotch sighed. 'I don't know about that. Rossi has volunteered to take care of you when you get out. He has leave coming to him.' Hotch said, biting down a laugh.

Reid's eyes snapped open and his body jerked awake, his stomach curling in pain. 'What?' He gasped.

Hotch gently pushed Reid back on the bed. 'Nothing. Go back to sleep. We'll all be here when you wake up.'

**END**

**AN 1 - For the_vampire_act; Hope you enjoyed this. You've written lots of fics that have entertained lots of readers so it was a pleasure to be your alloted Santa and give you a little something back.**

**AN 2 - Thank you to all who reviewed, alerted and faved. I hope the brevity of this fic didn't disappoint anyone. The challenge in writing this story came in creating a multi chapter piece in a very defined and short space of time. I like to think it has honed my editing skills and made me focus only on what was absolutely necessary to show. I hope it worked for everyone. There might be a sequel. Thinking it through.**

**FT**


End file.
